


A Not So Simple Crash Investigation

by writingfromdarkplaces



Series: Fleet Legal Advocate Corps Alternate Universe [1]
Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Flashbacks, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 09:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7569469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfromdarkplaces/pseuds/writingfromdarkplaces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Lee Adama of the Fleet Legal Advocate Corps is called in to investigate a training accident, dredging up his own past in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Not So Simple Crash Investigation

**Author's Note:**

> One of the other things I found in my files was this incomplete AU, a mix of two great loves of mine, JAG and BSG. I even shared it with a few people back a long time ago, so if someone says, "wait, I know that story," you might. It's still mine, still a piece I kind of like, and one I always thought I'd do more of someday.
> 
> Nowadays, I barely write, but this one didn't deserve to languish like it did. I shouldn't post it because I don't intend to revive the pen name I had when I wrote it, but I like it. Even if I couldn't write it today to save my life.

* * *

Aviation fuel and engine grease. It smelled like home. 

He stood still for a moment, closing his eyes and taking in the familiar smells and sounds. All of this was as familiar as breathing. Nothing was quite like it, the hum and bustle of a flight deck. It was a comfort, a place of refuge, but also a place of pain. He only needed a moment. It all came back to him, the memories, the lost hopes, the scars... His body engulfed in pain, trapped in the cockpit, burning alive, the impact shattering his bones, the darkness that he thought would last forever.

_“Just a Sunday drive, right, Captain?” Commander Orrin teased, running his hand along the side of the Viper. He traced the nameplate almost enviously. Lee watched him with a forced smile. He hadn't felt right about this test flight, and as zero hour approached, his sense of foreboding had only deepened. He tried to shake it off. He wasn't superstitious, not like most pilots, but there were times that paranoia overtook him like any other man. “Take her out and show her the sights.”_

_“Yes, sir,” Lee agreed. Orrin stepped away from the ship, and the deck chief scrambled up the ladder and handed Lee his helmet. Lee put it on, trying to expel the doubts with a few measured breaths. He started doing his preflight checklist, waiting for something to fail and cancel the test._

_“All systems are green.”_

“Captain Adama?” a voice asked, and he turned towards a petty officer. He waited for a moment, and the petty officer gave a sloppy salute. Lee was used to it by now. “Follow me, please. We have prepared the conference room for you to use in your investigation. Commander Ashton wants to see you first.”

“Of course,” Lee agreed. He didn't need an escort. At one time, he had roamed these halls, as a cadet, a squadron leader, and lastly as a test pilot. And if none of those were enough, his father had taken him here several times as a boy to visit, and Commander Ashton was a family friend.

_“The bird is yours, Apollo,” Orrin's voice came over the comm channel, crackling in Lee's ear. “Take her out and see what she can do.”_

_“You have the cameras rolling?” Lee asked, somehow managing to make his voice teasing while his stomach twisted in knots. He didn't know what his frakking problem was. His head wasn't where it needed to be. He had to focus._

_“They're following you like always, Apollo,” Orrin agreed. “We all know how much you like the spotlight.”_

_“Roger that, control,” Lee rolled his eyes. He hated the spotlight. “Taking her out for a stroll.”_

Lee cleared his throat, trying to shake off the memories. He didn't need this. He was past all this. He'd had three years to forget that crash, and he'd done his best to do so. He had thought he had until he came here again. “The accident took place yesterday morning?”

“Yes, it did. Sir, you really should speak to—”

“I encourage you to stop right now, Petty Officer, before you tell me how to conduct my investigation,” he said coldly. “Were you there?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you know either of the pilots involved in the crash?”

“No, sir.”

“Then I have no further questions for you,” he said. “The commander's office, I believe. Thank you, Petty Officer.”

_The ship was just an ordinary Viper Mark VII. Lee knew that it had all their fancy new equipment on board, but it should be a ship like any other. He hasn't felt that way since he first set eyes on it. His superstitions began then. He'd been looking death in the face, and he knew it. Somehow, he'd never shaken that initial impression of the ship._

 _He turned, banking in a slight curve, starting to test the waters. He wanted to take this slowly. He couldn't shake this feeling. If he did one crazy stunt... It would all be over._

_“All right, Apollo,” Orrin laughed. “Maybe a Sunday drive is a bit too slow. You broke several records back at the Academy. Let's see you break them here.”_

The flustered petty officer gave another sloppy salute and left. Lee watched him for a moment, wondering when his bitterness had given way to complete disinterest. He shook his head and stepped into the office, saluting the man behind the desk. 

“Captain,” Ashton rose from his desk. His uniform had been let out in the last few years, and he had been eating something that got crumbs all over him. It was sad to see him this way. He was getting old, and Lee would never have thought it of him. “It's good to see you.”

Lee laughed. “Sir, with all due respect, no one wants to see me. I'm from the Fleet Legal Advocate Corps. No one likes us.”

“You were one of the best and brightest ever to come through these doors, Captain. And that had nothing to do with your father,” Ashton said, motioning for Lee to sit down as he did again. “What happened was a tragedy.”

_“I thought you were going to give the cameras a show today, Captain,” Orrin chided over the comms._

_Lee ignored him, studying the read out in disbelief. “Control, guidance has my Viper inverted. Request permission to disable the program for the rest of the flight.”_

_“Negative, Captain. If there is an error, we need more data.”_

_“Roger that, control,” Lee heard himself saying, but he couldn't believe he was agreeing to this. His hand reached for the control as the entire cockpit died. He keyed the comms, but they were dead. The whole ship had just... shut down. Like someone else had thrown a switch._

Lee took a seat. “I am here to investigate the deaths of Cadets Bedet and Karmaine.”

“That's all?” Ashton asked, shaking his head. “I had hoped you might have wanted to see your old man's friend, but I see all talk of the crash is still forbidden. Very well. I wasn't here when the accident occurred. Lieutenant Thrace was. I'd start there.”

“Thank you, sir.”

* * *

“Before we get started, the crash was declared pilot error, I held on to my commission by the skin of my teeth and my father's influence, lawyers are blood-sucking vermin, and FLAC lawyers are the worst because they don't even do it for the money,” he said to the new arrival hovering outside the conference room. “That said, all further discussion of those subjects is closed.”

“Yes, sir.”

His head jerked up in surprise. If he'd read far enough in the files he'd been given, he would have known that the flight instructor in question was a woman. But it still wouldn't have prepared him for that smirk. He pointed to the chair. “Have a seat, Lieutenant.”

She did, and he would have sworn she was thinking about propping her feet up on the table as she sat. He waited for a moment, setting the recorder on the table. “State your name and rank for the record.”

“Lieutenant Kara Thrace.”

“You are a senior flight instructor, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, sir,” she smiled at him again, and he blinked. For the first time in years, he felt something more than a passing awareness of his surroundings. After the crash, the rehab, the fight to hold onto what little he had left, he had lost touch with everything, living by rote. Nothing had been the same. Food didn't have much taste, no matter how it was spiced, alcohol didn't seem to burn, and while his body functioned fine, his emotions were far from it. 

_The first thing he registered was the pain. Then he realized that he only felt pain in part of his body. In fact, he didn't feel most of his body. Oh, gods. If this wasn't death, then it should have been._

_“Lee,” the word was choked out, and when he looked up, he was surprised to see his father standing there, tears rolling down his face._

_Lee tried to say something, but there was a tube in his throat. By the time someone got it out, he had nothing left to say._

_No matter what the people hovering over him think, how they have begged and pleaded for him to pull through this, he should have died._

He _wanted_ her. And he hadn't really wanted anyone since the crash. He'd let go of the physical tension out of necessity, but this woman across from him had brought back feelings he thought were dead. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, turning back to the paperwork. “Cadets Bedet and Karmaine were a part of your nugget class?”

“Bedet... Babydoll. Babydoll and Katman. Right. Sorry, sir. I know them better by call signs,” she said without a hint of apology. “Yes, they were my students.”

“They were in the advanced class?”

“Yes, sir,” she answered, and he wondered when the hell those words had become inappropriate. Maybe it was just the way she said them. Or being back here. He hadn't been here since the day his Viper went down. It was this place. It had to be. It was frakking with his head.

_“I thought you were going out for a Sunday drive, Captain,” Commander Orrin said, shaking his head. “Gods, Lee. We almost lost you there.”_

_“With respect, sir,” Lee said, his eyes the only part of him able to acknowledge the other man's presence, “I don't think I've really been saved, do you?”_

_“It's still early, Captain,” Orrin began._

_“But the verdict is in, isn't it?” Lee asked bitterly. “Thank you for your well wishes, sir. Now if you don't mind, I need my rest.”_

“In fact, they were two days from their final exam, is that not correct?” he looked down to check the records, though he didn't need to. He had just read it, and he'd come away burned.

“Yes, sir,” she agreed. “You have my recommendations there. You want me to say it?”

“Neither one of them were under review. It looks like they were going to pass with high marks,” he observed, flipping through the papers. He stopped and looked at her. “So what happened?”

“One minute they were in formation, the next they were in flames, sir. They were good, sir. The best out of this sorry lot,” Thrace said, leaning across the table. “Are you always like this?”

“Like what, Lieutenant?”

“Like you've got a stick up your ass, sir,” she grinned at him. He closed his eyes with a wince. 

_“Gods, Lee,” Zak muttered as he watched the nurse rush out of the room in tears. “Do you have to be such a bastard to everyone?”_

_“Zak,” Lee began warningly. “Don't start.”_

_“It wouldn't kill you to be nice to her,” Zak went on, ignoring him. “She's here to help you, you know.”_

_“I don't want her help, Zak. I don't want anyone's help. I'm sick and tired of being a frakking cripple,” Lee snapped. “And don't look at me like that, either. I'm sick of your pity and your judgment. Get the frak out. Now.”_

He realized that she was still talking. “Not that I expected much different, sir. All FLACs do, or so they say. I guess I should be glad they sent one that's easy on the eyes at least.”

“Excuse me?” The words tumbled out before he could stop them. He cursed himself for it. He just was hoping the attraction wasn't mutual. It would give him the excuse he needed to ignore it. 

“A woman would have to be dead not to appreciate how you look in that uniform, sir,” she told him, leaning back in the chair again. She was charged and full of energy, and she looked like she was ready to go round-after-round in the bedroom. 

_“Come on, Captain,” the overly perky, incredibly annoying physical therapist encouraged, her hands on his sides, her breath suggestive against his neck. “One more step. I know you can do it.”_

_“Frak you,” he said, hissing through his teeth, his arms ready to break under the pressure of holding his body up. He couldn't do this, no matter what her “incentive” was._

_“That's the idea, Captain,” she agreed. “But you have to walk before you can frak, you know.”_

_He gathered his reserve strength into his arms and used the bars to push backwards, knocking her on her pretty little ass. He looked down at her with a humorless smile. “We're done here.”_

“May I remind you, Lieutenant, that you are still on record?” He was pleased to hear no trace of his internal strain in his voice.

She looked at the recorder. “So, saying that I was wondering exactly what those hands could do when they're not shuffling papers is a bad idea?”

“I wouldn't recommend it,” he agreed. “Lieutenant Thrace, in your opinion, what caused the crash that killed Cadets Bedet and Karmaine?”

“The guidance system,” she said. 

He dropped his pen, and it rolled off the table onto the floor. 

_“I told you, sir,” Lee said, summoning what dignity he could while confined to a hospital bed, his legs not working, one of his arms broken and useless atop his chest, his whole body having betrayed him by being so very weak. “It was the guidance system. It was malfunctioning.”_

_“There was nothing wrong with the program, Captain.”_

_“With all due respect, sir,” Lee ground out. “You were not in that cockpit, and you don't know that. You couldn't possibly have salvaged anything viable from that wreckage. It was the guidance system.”_

_“It was pilot error, Captain. You're lucky you're not being charged with negligence.”_

He reached for his pen, picking it up and snapping it in his hand. He looked at her. “We're done, Lieutenant. You can see yourself out.”

“What?” she demanded. “Wait a minute—”

“This conversation is over,” he said, pushing the stop button on the recorder. He stood, gathering his papers and shoving them in his bag. “I thought I made it quite clear that there were subjects that were not open to discussion. Apparently, even the _simplest_ of orders gives you problems, though with your record, I'm not surprised.”

“I don't know what the frak you're talking about,” she said angrily. “But I guess I was right. You're just another arrogant FLAC prick who doesn't know his head from his ass. Sir.”

She stalked out of the room. He took a deep breath and headed in the other direction.

* * *

“Who the frak does he think he is, anyway?” Kara demanded, pounding her fist into the red pad held up by Helo. Who knew why the man insisted on spending his leaves from _Galactica_ with a disgruntled flight instructor, but he always turned up, lollipop in mouth, ready to get his ass kicked at triad or something else. Someone had suggested that he loved her, but Kara had laughed that one off. Karl might be hung up on someone, but it wasn't her.

“You mean the FLAC officer?” Helo asked, taking off the pad to rub his wrist. “You really don't know?”

“He didn't introduce himself.”

“He doesn't usually have to,” Helo said, shaking his head. “Lee Adama. Commander Adama's son.”

Kara hit the hand still covered by red padding. “So what?”

“Gods, you really are out of any sort of loop, aren't you, Starbuck?” Helo teased. “Maybe you'd remember better if I said his call sign was Apollo.”

“Frak me,” Kara whispered. _“That_ was Apollo?”

All she had heard about going through flight school was “Apollo broke that record” or “when Apollo flew this run.” She had gotten so sick of his name, even after she'd beaten most of his records. People still talked about him. They wanted him to come back and compete with her, to show everyone that her flying was a fluke, and that he could set new records just as easily as she did.

_“I think you've got the wrong call sign,” Commander Ashton observed, looking at her across his desk. She stood at attention, waiting for him. She wasn't sure why she'd been called to the commander's office, but it probably wasn't good._

_“Sir?” she prompted when a few moments passed, and she was still at attention._

_“I'm not sure how they came up with Starbuck, but I'm pretty sure it should be Artemis,” Ashton went on. “I haven't seen flying like that since Apollo left for War College.”_

_Apollo again. She rolled her eyes. She was sick of everyone comparing her to him. “Of course, while your flying may match his, your discipline certainly does not, Ms. Thrace. As to this latest charge of drunk and disorderly...”_

Then came the crash, almost three years ago. It was in the news everyday, constant updates on his progress, shots of his grieving, hysterical mother, his stoic father, and helpless younger brother. Kara had gotten sick of it, stopped watching. It wasn't like people didn't talk about it enough for her to know what was going on.

“Yeah,” Helo studied her. “Not many scars, huh?”

She shook her head. “He was in uniform. If he had scars, they were covered.”

“They said he recovered better than anyone expected. First he wasn't going to live, then he wasn't going to walk again. I heard he passed the bar while he was still bedridden,” Helo looked out past the training yard. “You know, I'm not sure I'd know what to do if I were him. I may only be an ECO, but I don't know if I could take being grounded.”

Kara stopped, studying Helo's face. “You know all this because you serve under his old man?”

Helo laughed. “Not really. I followed the news, like anyone else. As for the old man, he hasn't seen his son since the captain joined FLAC. They had some sort of fight, I overheard the XO saying something to the commander about it, but not enough to know what it was.”

“I can't believe he'd join up with the frakkers that took away his wings,” she muttered. 

Helo shrugged. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend?”

Kara laughed. “Yeah, right. Still, flyboy may be of use to me.”

“Why do I think you aren't really interested in him as a FLAC officer?” Helo teased. He caught Kara's arm as she started to leave. She glared at his hand, and he let go. “Look, I just... The thing is, I heard some things about Captain Adama. I know you don't care about rumors, but he's got a reputation. He's been as cold as ice since his recovery, goes through women like dishrags, and doesn't give a frak about anyone.”

“You worried about me, Helo?” Kara asked, grinning. “That's so sweet.”

“Frak you, Starbuck.”

“In your dreams, Helo.”

* * *

“You are Apollo.”

“I _was_ Apollo,” he answered, not looking up from his drink. He had come to this bar out of some stupid masochistic tendency he'd discovered in the last few years. He used to come here every Friday after the end of class, drink and socialize for a few hours, before heading back to his dorm to start studying for the weekend. He didn't know why he had felt the need to come here tonight. This place was just as full of pain as the base had been.

“You still hold that record,” she said, sitting down across from him. “No one else can match your time. They all lose consciousness first.”

“Because, for half of that time, I _was_ unconscious,” he said with a smirk. Gods, it hurt to remember that time. “Apparently, I managed to hold it even after I blacked out.”

She leaned back in her chair. “Figures. It was the one record I couldn't beat.”

He lifted his drink to her. She was Starbuck, after all. He'd read that in her file. She was the one everyone had told him about after he'd gone on to War College. She'd broken his records after he'd worked so frakking hard to beat the ones his father set.

“I still find it hard to believe that someone who could hold that turn after losing consciousness could frak up as badly as you did when you went down,” she said, her smile teasing and derisive. She reached for his glass and took a drink from it. “Or are you still blaming that on the guidance system?”

“I thought,” he said, taking back his drink, “that this subject was closed. It was ruled pilot error, Lieutenant.”

“Was it?” she asked, leaning forward. “You were Apollo. You were the best to come out of the Academy since the end of the Cylon War. Well, until I came along. But you were still pretty frakking good. So how do you screw that up so badly?”

“I have been told that it was my error, that there was no evidence of any malfunction in any of the Viper's systems, and that if I pursue my own personal agenda, not only will I lose my commission, I will be disbarred, and that is all if I managed not to have some sort of... other accident.”

She rose and crossed over to his chair. She straddled his lap, leaning into his neck. She kissed him, teasing him with the caress of her breath on his skin. “I think these frakkers know there's something wrong with the system, and I don't think they want us to talk about it.”

“I don't think this qualifies as _talking,_ Lieutenant,” he said, allowing her to experience her own medicine as he traced a hand under her shirt, circling her belly button as he leaned forward to catch her scent against her neck. Gods, she smelled good.

“That's what we _want_ them to think,” she whispered. 

“Are you suggesting that we maintain a facade of a sexual relationship in order to conduct a clandestine investigation, Lieutenant?” he managed to ask. 

“Who said it would be a facade?” she asked, getting to her feet. She pulled him by the hand. “Come on, flyboy. Time to take this somewhere private.”

He grabbed his bourbon and finished it before he got to his feet. He stopped and studied her for a moment. She wasn't the type that FLAC would use against him, but that didn't mean that she wasn't one of theirs. He couldn't trust her, and he knew it. She looked back at him. “You're not coming?”

He looked at her. “I highly doubt that I should, Lieutenant.”

She came back to his side, grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled his lips to hers. The floodgates of the last three years opened, and he heard a faint buzzing in his ear as everything seemed to spin. He was devouring her mouth. She might have started it, but he was going to be the one finishing it. His hands went around her waist, one inching higher up her back and the other teasing her waistline. This was not the place for this. As out of control as he was right now, he would end up getting them both arrested for public indecency.

He was a lawyer. He could probably get them off of the charges. 

He pulled back. “Your place. Is it on the base?”

“Far from it,” she said with a grin. “Think we'll make it there, flyboy?”

He shook his head. “I highly doubt it, Lieutenant.”


End file.
